OLD 59299

4321

I dropped by the grocery store today with the intention of picking up a gallon of sweet tea and a strawberry cheesecake. Before I left the supermarket, I had the two foregoing items in my hands, as well as a package of Oreo cookies. And to "top it all off," I stopped by the adjoining Oriental restaurant and got a takeout of Shrimp Lo Mein. My wife has been out of state for over two months, and as a result, I have been consuming a whole lotta processed food, and gaining some weight as a result.

All that to say that on my way from my car to the supermarket, I noticed one of those big Buster Brown's parked next to the store, better known as a UPS P800 package car. And as you might well imagine, (since anymore it is the order of the day), the vehicle was filthy.

Recently, I saw a photo of a UPS truck, and someone had done some unique "finger art" in the filth on the back wall of the vehicle. A sketch (and a very good one) of Santa. I have seen other photos of words, phone numbers, and the like etched onto the dirty sides, or back wall of a United Parcel vehicle. A very sad development, as when I worked for "the tightest ship in the shipping business" our trucks were washed on a nightly basis.

As I approached the UPS P800, it occurred to me to leave a memento of my passing. (Sounds like I'm dead)! At any rate, stepping up to the back wall of the truck, I began to write my name in the dirt, and afterwards the number of my last UPS vehicle (which I last drove just short of 30 years ago).

Bill

59299

And, there is little doubt that my name and previous P800 package car number will be driving throughout the highways and byways of my hometown for weeks to come. As if, in essence, she had been provided just one more chance to roll along the city streets. Very poignant to consider since by now my old Big Brown Bessie has, no doubt, been turned into doorknobs and children's toys and living room lamps.

And while I detest UPS' current practice of allowing their vehicles to look like a pig pen, there was something vicarious about including my name and truck number on a modern day version of old 59299, and watching as it drove off to deliver its next package, as if we had the opportunity to do it just one more time.

Bill McDonald, PhD